


Never Promised You A Rose

by MagicaDraconia16



Series: Tony Stark's Bingo 2019 [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Gen, Humor, IronStrange Bingo 2019, Marvel Bingo 2019, POV Stephen Strange, Pre-Doctor Strange (2016), Stephen Strange-centric, Tony Stark Bingo 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 06:05:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20466242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicaDraconia16/pseuds/MagicaDraconia16
Summary: Stephen Strange has had to buy numerous bunches of apology flowers because - according to Christine - he just can't help being an asshole to her. He knows what she likes. At least, he does . . . right up until this annoying flower shop owner tells him differently.





	Never Promised You A Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tony Stark Bingo, square K4; IronStrange Bingo, square O3; and Marvel Bingo, square O4 - all of which were Flower Shop. 
> 
> Title comes from the 1970 song '(I Never Promised You A) Rose Garden' as sung by Lynn Anderson, written by Joe South. When I was considering these particular squares, the line "I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden" jumped immediately into my head and wouldn't leave. I'd hoped to actually work that in, but couldn't do it.

“You . . . look like a _daisy_ kind of person. Sit right there, and let me find the _perfect_ one for you. Hmm, nope. No. No. _Definitely_ not! No. Nope…”

Before he’d even realised anyone was there, he found himself nudged onto a tall stool at the counter, a man with dashing silver streaks in his hair and a neat-looking goatee holding up petal after petal to his face, tossing them over his shoulder when they didn’t meet whatever criteria he’d decided on. It made the name of this flower shop – It’s Rainin’ Petals – surprisingly apt.

“Look—” He pushed the shopkeeper’s arm away, ignoring the petal the man was trying to hold up against his face. “I just came in to get a simple bunch of tulips, that’s all.”

The other man froze as though someone had cut power to him, and then drooped. “Oh, honey,” he said, mournfully. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you don’t apologise with just _tulips_?”

Doctor Stephen Strange drew himself up in indignation. “I _beg_ your pardon!” he spluttered. “Did you just call me ‘honey’?!”

The other man patted him on the arm in what felt like a remarkably condescending manner and turned away to a metal stand that was bizarrely placed at the end of the counter. “Dum-E, clean up in aisle 3,” he said, and to Stephen’s utter shock, the metal stand _beeped_ and then _moved_. It trundled forward and lowered the arm that Stephen had taken for some kind of hook to look at the carpet of daisy petals that surrounded the stool Stephen was sitting on.

Stephen was not the type of person to anthropomorphise animals or machines, but he was still fairly certain that when this one lifted its arm again, it was glaring at him. It gave a couple of low beeps, before wheeling itself off to, presumably, find something to sweep the petals up with.

Shaking his head, Stephen closed his eyes and took a deep breath, resolving to start again. “Look,” he said, opening his eyes and almost startling himself backwards off the stool at the sight of the shopkeeper standing right in front of him. “How about we start over? Hi, I’m here to buy a bunch of tulips. What do you have available?”

“Definitely not tulips,” the man said, firmly. “How much of an asshole were you?”

Stephen opened his mouth to object to this as well, but then closed it again without uttering a sound. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an inaccurate observation. He sighed. “Enough to make her tell me that I was a heartless automaton, and that I had the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

The other man stared at him for a moment, lips pressed firmly together, before he snorted, and then, apparently unable to help himself, burst out laughing.

Stephen allowed this for a few minutes, but when the man had doubled over and begun to wheeze, clutching at the newly returned robot, he grew annoyed. “Yes, yes, very funny, thank you,” he muttered, folding his arms across his chest. “Are you going to help me or not?”

The other man took a couple of deep breaths and did his best to straighten himself up, although he was still leaning rather heavily on his robot. “Purple hyacinth,” he said, his voice still amused. “Lots and lots and _lots_ of it.” He suddenly made a thoughtful face. “Perhaps with a couple of pink ones in there, since she _did_ reference Harry Potter...” Absently patting the robot, which was now awkwardly using a broom to sweep the sea of petals around on the floor, the shopkeeper stepped away from Stephen and approached several buckets of flowers.

“A few peonies, too, I think,” the man continued, although Stephen had the impression it was more to himself now than to Stephen. “And perhaps a few white tulips after all.” He abruptly cast a sideways glance at Stephen. “Or perhaps a _lot_ of white tulips.”

Stephen watched dubiously as the man began to gather different coloured flowers from various tubs. “Is all of that really necessary?” he complained. “I just usually get her a bunch of tulips or roses.”

The shopkeeper straightened up and turned to scowl at him. “And no doubt that’s why you have to _keep_ getting them,” he said. “Just getting the same thing for the same reason over and over again shows a shocking lack of consideration for the lady in question.”

About to argue that all women loved getting fancy flowers, especially roses, Stephen suddenly remembered the few times Christine had brought in flowers for the nurses’ station. They were usually full of what Stephen uncharitably called “weeds”, small wildflowers and bright white daisies, or big yellow sunflowers.

Furthermore, the flowers _he_ bought her quite regularly always seemed to disappear incredibly quickly, with Christine usually saying something about them dying off. “Huh,” he said, surprised. Christine didn’t _like_ roses or tulips!

The shopkeeper chuckled at him. “There we go,” he said encouragingly, turning back to the tubs he was picking flowers from. “Maybe your apology will go further this time.”

“It probably won’t be long before I need another bunch,” Stephen admitted, getting to his feet as the other man brought over a bunch of flowers to the counter. Most of them were purple and pink, but there were a few white tulips dotted throughout the bouquet.

“Well, I’ll be here if you do,” the shopkeeper said, swiftly wrapping the flowers up. He handed them, and a business card, to Stephen in exchange for the American Express card Stephen handed to him. “Tony Stark, at your service.” He rang the card through and handed it, along with the slip, back to Stephen. “Pleasure doing business with you, Doctor Strange.”

Stephen signed the slip in his usual indecipherable doctor’s squiggle and slid it back across the counter. “No doubt you’ll have a lot of my ‘business’,” he said, turning towards the shop door. “Got any flowers for that?”

And he exited the shop to the sound of Stark’s delighted burst of laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Flower meanings (or the ones that I've chosen to use, anyway): 
> 
> Purple Hyacinth - sorrow/deep regret for a wrong committed, asking for forgiveness  
Red/Pink Hyacinth - playfulness  
Peony - bashfulness, shame  
White Tulip - forgiveness, used to claim worthiness  
Daisy - innocence, purity 
> 
> The daisy flower I had in mind was the Gloriosa Daisy, but in the various colours of the Gerber Daisy.


End file.
